


Velvet

by ProneToRelapse



Series: Jim and Seb Drabbles and Oneshots [8]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Character Study, Freeform, I'm working on some things, Shh I just need to get this out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-17
Updated: 2014-01-17
Packaged: 2018-01-09 02:13:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1140230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ProneToRelapse/pseuds/ProneToRelapse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fear is constant.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Velvet

There is not a single word that will adequately describe James Moriarty, nor his influence on the world. Times he illuminates and casts shadow in equal measure and there is no way he can alter the way in which the world will accept him.

 

Fear is a constant. Not for him but _of_ him. There has never been a person who has not feared – on a conscious or even a primal level – whatever it is that Moriarty is capable of. It speaks for itself that those mischievous dead eyes cause a stir in the confidence of the universe. For every ounce of control Moriarty takes for himself, an inch more of his bladed claws sink into the brainstem of the planet.

 

No one has ever commanded authority like James has. Even Generals don’t command as much loyalty from their solders as James demands. His presence demands an explicit conformity, his name inspires absolute loyalty. He walks among his web, feeling even the faintest tremors of each silken strand; the vibrations of the earth that sing to him in every resonant key.

 

He walks unseen but never out of the minds of his people. A mastermind’s smile paints his lips with cruel intentions, the lines of his face read like Braille under the tentative fingertips of the world.

 

When Moriarty laughs, cities fall and civilizations burn in the aftermath. His fingers close upon their cries from help and the sounds etch the markings of his long-forgotten fingertips.

 

There have been few people who have seen his face, fewer still who _knew_ it to be him, the infamous Moriarty upon whom they looked. The traps he sets are elegant and laid down before even the very thought of the closing occurs. Such is the nature of James’ web. He is prepared with the skill of a clairvoyant, and is less likely to be caught than a breath of mist in frozen air.

 

His pull and influence can only increase with his every breath like the inexorable ebb and flow of tides. There is no conclusion to his quest for influence; there will be no grand concerto finale. It will only ever be James locked in his vicious dance with the world powers, hidden behind them like the devil he is.

 

As much as there will always be resistance, Jim’s presence will loom over the underworld of crime like the dark shadow of cloud that he is. A dark entity with deadly taste and a beastly smile marred singly by the smouldering cigarette hanging from between poisonous lips. From which he will blow a toxic kiss, and a velvet wink from behind the sight of a gun.

 


End file.
